Texas Kilt
by LezHeartful99
Summary: Don't mess with a Scot's kilt. Slash Warning. Mike/Jamie


Peter placed the glass bowl that supposedly held Cream-A-Chicken soup in front of Mike. And to The Texan, it looked more like a bowl of pudding. Pudding with some strange, soggy veggies.

Well.

Mike was hesitant, glancing up at the sandy blonde haired male who was smiling widely.

"I didn't burn down the house this time!" He said with much glee. So much it was almost humorous.

Unfortunate to the dark haired male, the other two monkees were out and he was left here with Peter's cooking.

Bon Appetite.

Mike mentally sighed, picking up the spoon that sat beside his bowl then poked the greatly thick soup.

It even jiggled.

Nice.

"Well?" Hopeful eyes looked right into Mike.

"Y'know, Ehm, I'm not that hungry, Shotgun.." he muttered as his eyes settled upon the bowl once more then slowly moved back up to a face that grew from cheer to pure sadness.

"But..?"

The older male waved his hands, "I, well, ate some crackers earlier" he lied, trying to not hurt the boy's feelings.

Peter, even though, still frowned which only made the latter frown.

Mike was about to make up another lie to make the younger male's frown disappear but was interrupted.

Interrupted by something grandly strange.

An odd noise faded in slowly as both men glanced at each other in pure puzzlement.

"I didn't know you installed a new doorbell…" Peter mumbled, looking up at the ceiling.

"...But I didn't"

"...The Tv?"

"Remember? Micky Sold it for some 'Robot' parts…"

This made them freeze instantly.

"I swear, Doctor, don't that box of yers 'ave ah...radar thingy to show where ya land?"

Quite a thick accent, Mike thought. Possibly Scottish?

"Hush now!" Spoke another voice. British.

The two heard something that seemed to be a soft pop of paper to skin.

"Oi! Wha's tha' fer?"

A low chuckle was heard, along with a curious humph.

More mumbling of small conversation continued from what seemed to be coming from the patio. The men were, by now, staring at each other with concentration.

A moment or two later, Mike was the one to break the gaze of curiosity as his dark eyes glanced to the patio's glass door.

Unfortunately, he couldn't see anything for the moment as there was drapes in the way.

Darn drapes…

But, alas, Mike could make out a faint blue light trying to seep through the cloth.

Mike then slowly crept over, but was stopped as Peter put an arm on his shoulder. The dark haired male put a finger on his own lips.

"I'mma see what in tarnation is going on.." he whispered, almost in a hissing manner. But before he could even try to walk halfway to the patio doors, they swung open.

That's when Mike was eyeing a small, older male, who seemed to be holding some sort of musical instrument in his right hand and a rolled up paper in the other.

"Oh Dear! Sorry to intrude…" the older man's hands came together with the items. The way he spoke was as if he's randomly barged into someone's house before.

"It's, eh," Mike glanced around as if this were a joke, questioning anything, "..Alright?"

"Ahh, Don't worry, he does this a lot" A shorter male popped from the old male's side, speaking with such a deep, thick accent.

Mike let a brow pop up, finding the short, thick accented male quite intriguing. Intriguing because of what clothing clung ever so fittingly to the male's hips.

Indeed, It was a kilt! In this day in age…

Mercy me.

"Hmm, I wonder why she brought me here.."

"Tah teach ya ah lesson!" The Scott huffed.

"She? Who? Lesson? I'm utterly confused…" Peter looked dumbfounded.

"I'm surprised you know what utterly means" Mike mumbled, making Peter knit his brows.

"Oh, My bad!" The old man laughed half heartedly, sliding the paper into his pocket but still grasped his musical instrument.

"Intruding and not telling you who we are! Not well mannered of me today..Well, I'm The Doctor. Just..The Doctor. And this here is my companion, Jamie.

Jamie.

That name didn't seem to help the fact that he was wearing such a girly like outfit. Which awkwardly seemed to fit the man perfectly.

Strange.

Such a feminine frame and posture. Quite a girlish face, as well. It wouldn't be surprising to find him getting hit on teasingly. Women or men.

But..But damn, Why the hell was Mike thinking this?

Wow.

Peter lipped the word Doctor as if confused by it's meaning but never questioned.

"Well, I'm Peter," The blonde spoke as a large smile emerged along his now dimpled face, "And this is-"

"I'm Mike" The latter swaggered in a sensual breath, as if targeting it towards Jamie.

And oh, was Mike smirking now?

Jamie caught the act but ignored it as if his mind was playing tricks.

The Doctor was about to speak, but then heard a blip of a noise.

"Oh! She must have finally caught a reading! Peter, would you like to check it out?"

Peter blinked, eyes filled with curiosity. "I guess?" he said, smiling nervously as he started following The Doctor to the Patio.

Thus leaving Mike with the strange Scot and his…

His goddamn kilt. It made the Texan's eyes be fooled as they trailed it's owners legs.

Jamie turned, wanting to get out of such an awkward situation.

"Doctor, How long are we stayin? Ah don't want tah cause any more awkward situations..!" he said with something hinting what might happen with the Texan and Scot.

There was a sound of someone muffling a reply, seeming to be the Doctor but hardly audible.

"Says the one with the Skirt.."

Oops, Mike said that aloud, didn't he?

Great move, Tex.

"O-Oi!" The Scot turned his head, face red with sudden anger or was it flusteration?

"It's nawt ah skirt, Lad!" he hissed.

"Well, Sorry, Sunny. Was it a topic not to touch?" Mike mumbled, raising a brow as he found it quite amusing to see the smaller guy fuse. And if you wanted full honesty, Mike thought it was even cute...

Jamie just tugged at his kilt, glancing back. For some odd reason his feet wouldn't allow him to move.

"It's. Ah. Kilt." Jamie said in a whispered hiss like voice.

"Such a fancy word for a-" he was cut off as Jamie walked up to him.

"I swear." Jamie grumbled, directly meeting eye contact.

Whatever thoughts or wonders of where Peter and The Doctor could have gone on the Patio without making a noise was lost as Mike smirked.

"Oh, Y'not like it being called a-" Mike paused in a teasing way.

"..Say it...Ah dare ya"

"..Skirt..."

Who knows what reason that caused the young Scot to do such action. Out of rage? Flusteration? Nervousness? Or just all three?

Whatever the cause, the shorter male gripped the taller man's shirt and pulled his lips upon his.

It was a hungry kiss a first. All for the feast and lust, but all smoothened as Mike returned the kiss. What was the action for the returned kiss?

Maybe how intriguing the male looked with that silly 'skirt'? How revealing it really was? The accent the man that could outbeat his any day?

Whatever might've the cause have been, it made Mike's hands eager. Much with eager that they explored it's newfound territory. They touched the Scot's waist and his chest, his stomach and his shoulders. The Scot was so short, but all in all, well fit.

As hands were flying from the 'West', hands from the 'East' were clenched somewhat nervously to the Texan's plaid shirt. Fiddling with a couple buttons as the kiss was deepening. Jamie then pressed his thin waist along the fuller built male.

The kiss ended, though, as hazy eyes glanced at each other knowing one another no longer than ten minutes. They gave off drugged like vibes as neither spoke quite yet, still clinging and breathing heavily.

And if Mike was sober from the lust, he might have pushed the man away. He would've felt disgusted and blamed the other for wearing such a revealing skirt. But, weirdly as it was, Mike had full attention on his pleasures. Purely drugged out.

Thus making the next actions not surprising.

Mike moved swiftly, planting his lips against Jamie's again, but changed the actions up a bit. He took the Scot's lips and suckled at his bottom lip, chewing occasionally with his teeth.

Mike had continued his actions until he was sure that lip was now swollen a beautiful, bright red, pulling away with a popping sound. Jamie could only respond with letting his hand slip underneath a now ruffled shirt that had been tucked neatly earlier.

Oh well.

As the Scot's hands slid up Mike's shirt, Mike merely copied in a different manner. Different only with the type of clothing. Clothing that hung on a waist.

Jamie fidgeted as he felt smooth, soothing hands against his bare waist.

"Is it true," Mike started "That Scots don't wear anything 'neath these things here?"

The Texan tugged at the kilt's hem for an emphasis, getting a reaction as Jamie's free hand hit at the other's hand.

"N-None yer business.."

"May I find out?"

Jamie was silent.

"Yes?" Mike asked once more, maybe out of impatience.

They just fucking met no longer than twenty minutes by now andit was as if he could trust him. To let him do such. Why would he? It was like rape…

But, ever heard that it wasn't rape if you didn't enjoy?

Jamie was hesitant, face purely now a sweet, crimson red as he just nodded.

Mike seemed to like the reply as his hand crept further up the kilt. He tried searching for any clothing underneath and hummed. Or maybe he was searching for no clothing at all?

"Oh," Mike wasn't much surprised "So it's true?"

Mike glided his hand along the new founded organ as Jamie's breath was caught in his throat.

So much interruption might have happened in so little time in this night, but an interruption to such was the biggest of them all.

"Mike! You wouldn't believe it! There's this thing it's bigger on the-" Innocent, childlike eyes widened as he caught the scene in action.

It nearly made both the men's hearts stop at that very moment.

The scene was set up as an odd pose.

A hand slid up a kilt, another foreign hand up a ruffled, plaid shirt, eyes dilated fully, and cheeks flushed.

Oh how awkward...


End file.
